Pretending
by somewhereonlywekn0w
Summary: Trouble and tragedy in Kurt Hummel's life teach him that it really is precious and to live it to the full, so he writes a bucket list. He just doesn't expect to see you-know-who again. Future!fic.
1. Prologue

Hey everyone :) I hope I'm doing this thing right. This is the first fanfic I've ever posted on here. It's Klaine, obviously. It'll be a mostly future fic once I get into the actual fic, but as this is the prologue I've messed stuff around - as in, there's past and future, but not future as in the time scale the rest of it will be written. I make no sense whatsoever, so just trust me. Reviews and criticism and things would be nice. I'll be quiet now. Enjoy! (Also, ignore any horribly English words in there. I'm English and have tried to use American where I know it but I'm sorry if any British words are in there!)

(also, I felt like I had to explain this but I've named Kurt's mother Karen because my friend and I once said "wouldn't it be nice if Kurt's mum's name begun with a K? So her name and Burt would be like their couple name." So, yeah. Not that it makes any difference at all but I thought I'd just mention that!)

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><p><strong>Pretending: Prologue<strong>

_will we ever have a happy ending  
><em>_or will we forever only be pretending? _

Being eight years old was meant to be fun.

It was meant to be all about muddy clothes and scraped knees. Adventures and bedtime stories and sleepovers. Wanting to be just that little bit older but still being able to love it when your mom holds you tight when you're scared. It's about still believing in Santa Claus and watching Disney classics until the tapes break.

Kurt knew he was different to all the other kids in school. He saw them - their parents couldn't put a decent outfit together, they didn't like singing, they weren't as clever as him. And they all seemed to dislike him. Kurt didn't understand the names that they shouted at him. He didn't understand why they picked on _him_.

Kurt Hummel liked fairytales. He liked crawling into his mom and dad's bedroom and lying wrapped in Karen Hummel's arms, listening to her tell yet another story she'd made up on the spot. She was so good at that her stories were captivating and Kurt loved them. He loved her perfume - it was floral and fresh and smelt comforting and this was where Kurt was certain he could be safe. Safe from the mean kids, safe from the people who didn't like him, safe from the terrifying, inevitable future.

And he wanted nothing other than his mommy now. He didn't want his dad to tell him to play with his colouring books in the family room because "kiddo, I just need a minute, okay?". Kurt knew his mom was poorly. He knew she had to go to the hospital a lot. But he got to visit her whenever she went, usually. Why couldn't he see her now? He was scared. He _needed_ his mom!

Burt sat beside his wife, holding her hand and soothingly running his thumb over her bony knuckles. They both knew what was happening. Not everybody survived cancer, and they'd _always_ known that. They just didn't expect Karen to be one of the few who fell.

The rest of their family were keeping Kurt occupied in the family room - telling him he could see his mom soon and "wow, aren't you a good colourer, Kurt?". Karen sighed as she lay back in the uncomfortable bed, keeping her gaze on her husband. "I want to speak to Kurt, honey. It's getting late," she whispered, looking up at Burt. "Please."

"Okay." Burt kissed her softly as he left, drowning himself with her appearance as if she'd disappear in the thirty seconds it would take to find their son. Kurt ran after his dad and into the room and his heart broke as Karen used all the energy her exhausted body contained to wrap her arms around the small, sobbing boy.

"I don't want you to... I don't want you to die, mom," Kurt whispered as her fingers ran through his soft hair, using her other hand to wipe his tears.

"And I don't want you to cry, baby. Come here," Karen soothed as he buried his head into her body. Burt had left the pair in the room alone as he felt like he was intruding on an important moment. "I'll always be..._ here_. Okay?" She knew it was horribly cliché to say such a line in that moment, but she felt Kurt's hand squeeze around hers over his heart and she realised that maybe, she _was_ saying the right thing.

Kurt was a lot like his mom. They both had the same pale skin and magically multicoloured eyes and Burt sometimes wondered what he'd done to earn such amazing people. And he didn't know what he'd done to lose one of them in front of his eyes... and it was crushing to see the woman he loved disappear in front of him. He could see her perfectly. He could touch her. He could hold her. And he could see how she was desperately holding onto anything she could cling on to.

Burt watched from outside the room as Kurt giggled as his mom talked about anything but death. Her delicate fingers traced the profile of her young son's face, reminding herself of his features - mostly inherited from her. He was well and truly a mommy's boy - when the other kids wanted to go to football and baseball practice, Kurt was giving both of his parents fashion advice. He would sit on the counter in the kitchen and watch Karen bake. She'd sit for hours as Kurt styled her hair or did her makeup better than any other girl his age could. Karen and Burt both knew their son was different to other children, but they never questioned it. He was uniquely theirs.

Karen's fingers laced with Kurt's as he looked up at his frail mom, who was trying her best to keep smiling around her innocent son. He was only eight. He didn't deserve to be exposed to how cruel the world was already.

"Kurt, come on, kiddo," Burt hushed, noticing his wife's tired demeanor. She pressed her body back into the bed, pressing a light kiss to Kurt's forehead.

Kurt looked back at his mom, who'd already fallen back into her sleep. "Will I see her tomorrow, dad?" Kurt asked, looking up at his father with an expression that belonged on a fifty year old man's worn out face, not his sons.

"We'll see, Kurt." Burt was never a man who was good with words, so he offered out his hand and waited for his son to take it. He gave a reassuring squeeze, and walked Kurt back to the family room.

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><p>Kurt loved college. He'd dreamed of independence on this scale ever since he could remember and he always knew New York City was where he would come to study.<p>

He lived in a dingy Manhattan flat where there was a constant drip from the ceiling. The kitchen was littered with beer cans and coffee cups and Kurt sometimes wondered how he tolerated living with such an unsanitary mess. He was even resorting to take out meals on a frequent basis and he blamed Blaine's love of chow mein for his sudden inability to fit into his favourite pair of Levi's. And if it was anybody elses fault, he'd be pissed. But he couldn't help but love the collection of plastic chopsticks and polystyrene trays in their kitchen.

It was winter and every sidewalk seemed to be covered in a pretty white blanket. Of course, Kurt would be out enjoying the weather if he wasn't trapped inside the apartment finishing an essay. He was officially finished for the year when this damned essay was complete... but he had no motivation whatsoever. Whoever said fashion design didn't involve writing was crazy.

It was almost theraputic to see the snowflakes outside his window. His mom used to love snow. Burt used to tell Kurt that snowfall was his mom's way of wishing him a merry Christmas.

Blaine was out in the horrid snowstorm, last minute Christmas shopping. It wasn't hard to find gifts living in this city but God, he couldn't be bothered. Tourists still milled around in their hundreds, taking photos of Times Square with their overly expensive cameras or obnoxiously blocking the sidewalks. He needed some silly little presents to send back to his friends that he still spoke to from Dalton and he needed to find his younger sister a present. He'd promised that he would take her to see a musical on Broadway but hell, those tickets were expensive. He tried to compromise by offering her a "100 Top Broadway Hits" album instead.

"College really biting your butt, huh Blaine?" she'd laughed.

And he still hadn't even thought about Kurt's main present. Sure, he'd bought him that stupidly expensive cologne he'd gone crazy for but he wanted the _real_ present. Something that he couldn't buy in a rush.

He'd talked to Burt and Carole about it, and they were fully behind him. He didn't ask for his own parents' approval because he knew they wouldn't give it.

It was only a promise. ...A promise to someday propose, and subsequently marry the boy he loved. So it was pretty much a preliminary marriage proposal. He _had_ to get this right.

He stood outside a jewellery shop on a road he could barely recognise, clutching a small box in his hand. He'd actually done it. He had the ring. It was beautiful. And he couldn't stop freaking out with nerves. He punched his sister's number into his phone and she couldn't seem to see why he was so worried. It was funny to her to hear her brother freaking out... over nothing. He had nothing to worry about.

"Blainers, calm down. You're so whipped for this guy and the feeling is probably mutual. Just went you pop it on him, don't hide it in his Christmas pudding or whatever. That'd be just awkward."

He smiled. "I won't. But seriously... do you think he'll like it? You've met Kurt, you know what he's like... what if he doesn't like it, Sar?". Blaine flicked the velvet lid up and stared at the shiny ring - there was a subtle diamond in the middle of the thin silver band and it wasn't too flashy but not too simple. It was just... Kurt. It was perfect for him.

"Of course he will, silly. We're leaving soon to go to grandma and grandpa Anderson's house... so I have to go. Wait, does dad even know that you're doing this?"

"I don't really care. Tell him if you want," he laughed gently. He tried to hide it, but having such a terrible relationship with his father got him down. Blaine and his mother were... okay, when her husband wasn't around. And Sara loved Blaine. He always managed to make her smile when they were little and when they got older, they'd talk about boys and how unfair their dad was and joke around together. They were the best of friends, and it didn't matter that they were siblings with a minor age gap.

Kurt's fingers clenched around the phone, holding it so tight his knuckles were whitening and he could barely think straight. He still kept in contact with his family and him and Blaine were meant to be visiting after Christmas. But... he hadn't expected _that_. Not at all.

He knew God probably hated him but seriously, did he have to punish him in this way? All Kurt knew right now was that he needed to get to Ohio. His family needed him and well, as much as he hated to depend on them, he needed them too.

"Kurt?" Blaine wondered aloud - he hadn't dared to speak yet because he didn't have a clue what the hell was wrong.

"Go," he whispered brokenly. He sounded terrified.

"Kurt? Tell me what's wrong. Please."

They both heard him stutter on his ghostly breaths, desperate to compose himself. Blaine knew that Kurt was an incredibly overemotional person but he also knew that he hadn't finished watching an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Something was... really wrong. He wouldn't be packing a suitcase if he was just upset.

"Blaine. I love you, I really do. I just... I need to do this. I need to go back to Ohio for a few weeks and I'm sorry that we can't spend Christmas together and-" Kurt's voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Can't I come with you? To Ohio?"

"No, Blaine. This is my problem. Just... I'll see you soon. I guess."

Blaine was well, _confused_. Kurt wasn't making any sense whatsoever and yeah, he was scared. He hated seeing his boyfriend's vulnerable side and not being able to make him feel better.

"Come here."

Kurt hesitated before allowing himself to be wrapped in a crushing hug, breathing deeply to memorise his cologne. He looked up at Kurt and saw the pain in his eyes that shown a man a lot older than nineteen. It was frightening.

"Is this... it? For us?" Blaine whispered.

"Blaine..." Kurt murmered, pressing a gentle kiss to his face with his arms still around him. "I... we'll see. I'll call you."

"I love you, Kurt. I want you to be okay."

"I will be. And I love you. I do."

Blaine watched helplessly as Kurt scurried out of the apartment and Blaine physically felt Kurt's wit, mannerisms, humour and stubbornness move out as well. He had no idea why he'd gone, or when he'd be back.

He took the material box out of his pocket and swallowed deeply, opening it to gaze at the ring. His fingers traced the cool metal and he made a promise to himself to never let Kurt fall between his fingers.

Blaine would never let Kurt slip away.

He was too important to ever let go.


	2. Chapter 1

Hello! :D thank you all so, so much for the reviews, hits, alerts and favourites :) I've put anon reviews on so you know, some more would be nice... ;) but seriously, thank you all so much! The places mentioned in the third block of this chapter are places I've been to (I won't say where/what as you haven't read that far yet) and they are real, I haven't just made them up! So... I'll stop blabbering now. Enjoy :)

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><p><strong>Pretending: Chapter 1<strong>

_sometimes tears say all there is to say  
>sometimes your first scars won't ever fade away <em>

Dreamers are always lost.

They're lost in books, their imaginations, their thoughts. They avoid the real world and create better places to be and people to know. They're never in just one place - they might be queuing in a coffee house on a Monday morning but inside their mind, they're travelling through an amazing world where it_ rains_ coffee. Because they simply can.

And sometimes they know exactly where they are but they don't know why they're there.

Like Blaine Anderson.

He didn't expect everything in his life to fall apart so quickly.

He stayed in his apartment for the rest of freshman year. He couldn't bear to let it go. And sure, he had to accept that Kurt wasn't coming back to New York. That he'd dropped out of his fashion design course without telling him. Why he deleted him from every other social networking site they were signed up to. Why his texts and calls were never answered and Blaine figured that it really was over when he saw that Kurt changed his Facebook profile picture from them at a high school graduation party, smiling in their respective school's gowns, to a forced vanilla smile taken in his bedroom. That hurt more than anything.

And it hurt not knowing why.

He just didn't understand. Kurt was his... he was his _everything_. He wasn't scared to be the real Blaine Anderson who loved playing Katy Perry songs on various instruments or late-night Guitar Hero jams. The Blaine who obnoxiously changes pronouns in song lyrics, sleeps in coloured underwear and after keeping a guard of himself all of his life, he could finally let it down around Kurt. He'd never let himself become emotionally attached to anybody, as they always hurt him in the end... until he met _him_. And he was probably ridiculous to think that a relationship that started when they were both in high school would ever last.

Most people would find a way to cure the pain of a breakup. They'd smash all the photoframes or sit at home crying with a bottle of wine.

But Blaine decided to distance himself from everything they'd once shared. For sophomore year, when he realised that Kurt was never going to return, he moved into shared accomodation in an apartment block which was just as bad as the rented place he'd shared with Kurt. The ceilings leaked weekly and there was a constant stench of cheap fried food mixed with beer. There were a hell of a lot more people - Blaine shared with nine others, who always had friends around - but he still felt out of place. He spent all of his time either being forced to socalise, performing in coffee houses or focusing on getting where he wanted to be. But he couldn't do that in New York.

So Blaine Anderson, the man who hadn't studied French since sophomore year at Dalton, took part in the student exchange programme. He studied in Paris during his junior year.

His place in Paris was nice. It was smaller than both places he'd lived in while in New York, but it was prettier. Everything seemed nicer here. He'd go to classes, he'd socalise a lot more because he _had_ to, he'd play guitar on the metro until the small hours of the morning. He'd hang out in clubs in the student and gay quarters in the city and he had plenty of acquaintances. He was never physically lonely as somebody would always crash on his floor after a night out or was avaliable for a study date.

He loved it here, he really did. It was nice to escape from the constant harrassment from his family about his grades and who he was dating and if he'd grown out of his "little gay phase" and who he was dating and "I'm sure there's plenty of nice girls, Blaine, you just haven't looked hard enough".

And while he was in Paris, he'd let go a lot. Unless he had classes at nine am, he'd be drunk most nights. He kissed random guys and even girls sometimes because it wasn't about what they had in their pants anymore, it was the feeling of being loved. It was a drug for him - he'd been deprived for over two years and he _needed_ it. People assumed he was romantically involved with somebody anyway because of the expensive ring he kept on a chain around his neck and he repeatedly passed it off as an heirloom, or a gift that didn't fit, or... whatever else he could invent on the spot. He'd always been charismatic and it seemed to come back to him at the most useful moments.

Of course he'd dated since Kurt left. There'd been a few off Broadway shows, a few meals, a few quick blowjobs in either man's apartment. And he'd enjoyed them, he really had. He just wasn't ready to commit again.

When somebody shatters your trust in the way Kurt had, it takes a long time to learn how to believe people again.

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><p>Kurt Hummel had experienced a lot more in nineteen years than some people experience in their entire lives. He never complained about having it "tough" or whatever, because he didn't want people's sympathy. He was a little boy lost in an adult's body, desperate for somebody to tuck him in at night and hold him when he was scared. And he didn't have the closest thing he did once have to that, because he pushed him away.<p>

Sure, he'd been a little irrational. He shouldn't have treated Blaine the way he did. But he didn't know how to repair what they'd broken. There wasn't a guide called "how to repair a relationship after you run off to another state a few hundred miles away without reason".

He did have a reason, of course. He just didn't want to share it.

There was a reason why he didn't come back, too. But he was embarrassed to admit it - especially to Blaine. The Anderson family weren't millionaires, but they were certainly comfortable. Comfortable enough to eventually send two children to out of state colleges at the same time. Burt's business did bring a lot of money to the Hummel family, but it wasn't enough to cover hospital expenses for two people in the circumstances they needed it.

Winters were always cold in Ohio. People were sick a lot. Little children snapped their arms slipping over during snowball fights and people caught colds like the plague. And sure, a plaster cast or bowl of chicken soup would make you feel better. But when a car slips on an ice-coated road into a building... there's not a lot that you do that provides instant relief.

Kurt sat beside his dad in his ICU bay: the sound of Kurt's breathing, the machines breathing for Burt and the muffled sound of new year celebrations around the world on TV were the only sounds in the room. He held his dad's hand tightly, hoping that he'd be okay. Kurt hadn't told anybody about the accident and Finn had only told his new girlfriend he'd met at college. Kurt didn't want attention. He didn't want sympathy and he certainly didn't want prayers.

Carole, although badly injured, wasn't as ill as Burt. She'd broken bones, had emergency surgery and the shattered windscreen had caused little scars all over her body. She'd had an operation to repair a broken hip and still couldn't move without a wheelchair. Her husband, however, had taken most of the impact of the crash. He'd cracked a few ribs and had a fractured wrist, his heart condition had returned and he couldn't breathe without a ventilator. He had spinal cord damage and swelling to his brain and if he ever did wake up, his life would be permanently impaired.

Kurt didn't know if his dad would ever tell him that he loved him again and it terrified him.

When Karen died, Kurt knew it was going to happen. His family would comfort him because he was only eight years old and cuddles made every problem seem better then. He still had Burt to reassure him but now it was his dad dying in front of him, nobody would hold him and tell him it would be alright. Because it wouldn't. And deep down, he knew that.

Finn wheeled his mom into Burt's room and the two younger men offered to give them some time alone. Kurt and Finn walked out of the hospital to make the most of the crisp night air. There were five minutes until it struck midnight and a few hospital staff and family members were outside, too. For the first time since he left New York, Kurt let his thoughts wander to Blaine. He hadn't spoken to him for at least a fortnight. Blaine had called a few times but Kurt didn't dare to return them. He'd sent texts with "How are you?" and "What's happened, Kurt?" and "Please, just tell me what's wrong".

The last one he sent was "I love you" three days ago.

Kurt wondered where he would be right now. Would he have flown to Ohio to visit his family? Was he still in New York? And if he was, what was he doing? Was he having a party or a couple of beers with his friends? Was their - his - apartment still as dirty as Kurt remembered? Was he at Times Square to see the ball drop?

They were going to go to Times Square together.

And before Kurt could think any deeper, Finn nudged him and they both looked up at the fireworks lighting up the sky. They were all sorts of colours and they were really, really pretty. And they distracted him from his current problems.

He knew he'd have to move back to Ohio to care for his dad. He knew he'd probably have to drop out of college, even though it was the one thing he ever wanted to achieve. But for five minutes, he could forget about everything happening inside the hospital. A flurry of snowflakes started to descend to the ground and this was far too much like a cheap romance movie for Kurt's liking... but he couldn't help but cry a little. Even if Burt wasn't going to make it, Kurt would. He was going to be okay. He couldn't see his mom, but she was still there. She'd always be there.

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><p>Losing his dad was a turning point in Kurt's life.<p>

The following weeks and months were terrible, he'd admit. He didn't tell any of his friends who lived out of state, or Blaine. Most nights he'd sit with Carole as she cried for both of her husbands, asking him impossible questions such as "why is the world so damn cruel, Kurt?". He didn't have the money or the determination to return to his course at the Fashion Institute of Technology - the school of his dreams. Forcing himself out of bed was a hard enough task, never mind studying at college.

Every day was the same. Wake up, mosturise, breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, visit the cemetary. Bin the old flowers, water the fresh ones.

He didn't feel ridiculous talking to a lump of stone. If anything, he felt comfort. Comfort that he was as physically close to his parents as he could be. Comfort knowing that they would listen, even if they wouldn't answer. Comfort because even when he wasn't at their grave, they were always with him. They seemed closer than they were when they were still alive.

Kurt was horribly stubborn but Carole coaxed him into going to a counsellor and hell, it wasn't easy for him to pour his life story to a woman he'd never met before. He cried a lot and she didn't judge. She let him call her out of hours whenever he needed a listening ear. She reminded him a lot of Blaine - that was probably why he liked her so much.

And eventually, he remembered what it was like to be happy.

His counsellor told him to write a list of things to look forward to, but he didn't have a lot - excitement dies down once you're out of your teen years, it seemed - so he wrote a bucket list.

_1. Visit Paris, France._

He'd never travelled further than New York City so this was a huge step for him. Kurt smiled to himself, with pride almost, as he stood at Trocadero Square. The buildings either side were beautiful and were just so typically... French. He was amazed at himself for still being able to speak French at a resonable standard, even though he hadn't taken a single class since he was eighteen and in his senior year. Everything was so perfect, as he'd imagined, and wow, he was _here_.

And it was there, in its beautiful, thousand-feet-tall glory.

Kurt realised his love life was really going down the drain when he fell in love with a city - with a_ tower_.

He sat on a wall in the square, flicking through his guide book about Paris and God, he felt like a complete stereotypical tourist. But he didn't care. Because this was one of the things he was doing for himself, for once. Nobody wanted to ruin his happiness. And he felt so happy just being here, that he didn't really think about America, or that he was returning there in a week or so.

He didn't miss America but heck, he missed coffee shops. After just watching everything pass him by for a while, he took the metro to the Latin Quarter, hoping to God he'd find a Starbucks there. If it's where all the students went, there _had_ to be some sort of shop that sold caffeine.

He silently thanked all the non-existent beings as he found the first Starbucks he'd seen since he left Ohio two days earlier. He thanked the Gods he so staunchly didn't believe in yet again as mocha graced his lips for the first time in what felt like _forever_ to him.

A man, fairly short, and with an unruly head of curls walked through the doors but Kurt didn't draw to conclusions. He just sipped his coffee.

Until he opened his mouth to talk to the barista and... shit. No. _No_.

Kurt would recognise that voice anywhere. Even if it was ordering coffee in a terrible French accent.

And Blaine would recognise Kurt's attempt to panic subtly, which would never work. He collected his latte and joined Kurt at his table.

"Well."

"What are you doing here?" Kurt whispered, not looking up from his mug.

"I could ask you the same thing."


	3. Chapter 2

Sorry for the wait everyone! I haven't been really inspired for a few days so this was really hard for me to write - not the content exactly, just getting it into words. There may be a few spelling mistakes or words with letters missing as it's 3:30am and guess what? I'm tired.

Oh! As the backbone to this fic is Kurt's bucket list... some ideas for his bucket list would be awesome. Nothing too impossible to happen, but I need ideas all the same! I'm looking for a list of about ten things and I've already got a few, but like I said - help would be awesome and of course I'll credit you!

I just want to say hi to my best friend Jess, who is my life saver here. My music taste isn't exactly diverse so she's helping out with those at the start of each chapter, and she's reading parts I'm sending her to reassure me that I'm not boring people to sleep. So, thanks to her - and thanks to all of you for the hits, reviews and alerts! I love you all!

Oh, and I thought I should mention this: as much as I wish I did, I don't own Glee. I don't own Kurt or Blaine or most things in this fic, really. Which is sad. And I don't own the song lyrics either - credit for those goes respectively to their writers!

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><p><strong>Pretending: Chapter 2<strong>

_and i don't want the world to see me, 'cause i don't think they'd understand_  
><em>when everything's meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am. <em>

Silences were horrible. They reminded you how much you had to say to each other but couldn't get out - or how much you really didn't have to say. And Kurt and Blaine had a_ lot_ to say.

They knew they had to talk. They'd dodged the very topic which they were both tihnking about for years - now, they couldn't dare avoid it.

"So," Blaine began, catching Kurt's attention. "Why _are_ you here?" He sat back in his chair and picked up his coffee cup, looking over at Kurt.

"Travelling. I want to make the most of life before it's over."

"So is that why you ran away? Some mysterious disease you don't trust me enough to tell me about? To be perfectly honest, I don't know what to believe anymore, Kurt. I thought what we had was... special. To both of us." His voice cracked as his sentence ended, and he dropped the cup back to the table. Blaine acted every day like he was over it; he really did. But it took all of his determination to not think about that day. He still wore the promise ring he'd intended to give to Kurt on a chain around his neck. Every time he'd attempted to fall in love again, he felt an invisible barrier stopping him from doing so. It was like Kurt influenced everything he tried to do to have a normal life.

Considering Kurt had been the vulnerable lost boy when they'd met, the tables hadn't half turned in a few years.

"For God's sake, Blaine!" Kurt snapped. He faced Blaine for a moment who sat, stunned. He looked back to his mug, tracing a finger around its rim. "If you _really_ want to know, my dad's dead. Carole nearly died too. but she's still here. Just about. But all that matters to you is that I left without a reason, isn't it? And you call _me_ self centered, Blaine. Honestly." A tear fell down his cheek and... shit. Blaine had really fucked up here.

"Kurt, I-" Blaine began. He knew how much Burt meant to Kurt. And he'd do anything for him. Even the things sweet, always-doing-good Kurt did.

He sighed. "Stop. You didn't know because I didn't tell you. I shut you out. And I am truly, truly sorry. But I'm not sorry for leaving you to be with my dad. He's all I had, Blaine. You have to understand me."

And Blaine was silenced. He couldn't still blame Kurt, not after what he'd told him.

"You could have told me, Kurt. I could have helped you."

It was Kurt's turn to be heartbroken. He _could_ have asked for help... but it's too late now. It's obvious that what they did once have is gone, and they'll never get it back. Not how they used to be, anyway. It's like breaking a mirror. You can repair it, even though it's hard, but you'll never be able to get past the cracks permanently tainting the reflection.

"Can we go for a walk?" Kurt offered. He didn't want to sit in this shop for much longer. Every Starbucks looked the same, and it was just... it was too much. For both of them, even though neither would admit it. It seemed ridiculous - being this emotional over _coffee_ - but it had been their _thing_. When you love someone like they loved - love? - each other, everything is a painful reminder of the other person. Love is a real asshole, when you think about it.

Blaine nodded, waiting for Kurt to finish his drink before leaving the shop with him. They walked in a surprising comfortable silence, Blaine occasionally taking a sip from the paper cup he held and Kurt looking around in awe at the white-washed buildings. It was so beautiful - America was so modernised with all it's bright lights but there was something about Paris that made you feel like you were stuck a hundred years in the past. You're in one of Europe's biggest cities but at the same time, it feels like a tiny village.

He occasionally turned to his side to ensure Kurt was still beside him but that aside, neither man spoke. They both walked for what seemed like at least an hour until Blaine led Kurt down a set of steps and to a stoned pathway beside the River Seine. "Where are we going?" Kurt asked curiously.

Blaine paused, turning to face him. "Just a little spot I come to every now and again. It's quieter down here... don't look so scared, Kurt. I'm not going to push you in." Kurt chuckled a little bit, the tension that still existed between them since their earlier encounter starting to disappear. There were a few people on the benches near them - there were some couples cuddling into each other, each pair having their own story. Others were alone, heads buried in horribly soppy romance novels or simply watching the world float by. Blaine sat down on an empty bench, tapping the worn wood as a signal for Kurt to join him.

"So how often do you come here?" Kurt asked, turning to look at Blaine. Blaine was looking straight ahead at the water and the buildings on the other bank.

Kurt noticed as he chewed his lower lip, diverting his eyes down to the hands playing in his lap. "Most days," he whispered, "I don't live too far from here. Kurt?" He looked up as he heard his name. "We really need to talk about everything. Even though it's going to be hard for both of us." Blaine watched as Kurt nodded his head, whispering something too quiet for Blaine to hear.

"Where should we start?" Blaine asked, offering a smile. One of them had to make this less awkward.

"What's the ring?" Kurt asked, reached out to play with the band hanging on a chain around Blaine's neck. Well... he hadn't even thought to hide it. It was just always there and nobody questioned it anymore.

_Shit_.

"Christmas gift. Off my auntie and uncle. It doesn't fit and I don't have the heart to tell them that it's too small, so that's why it's on a chain." Blaine was so used to fathoming excuses out of thin air that they rolled off his tongue naturally. Kurt nodded, accepting his excuse.

"So... no boyfriend?"

Blaine laughed sadly. "Nope, no boyfriend. You?"

Kurt smiled also, shaking his head. He didn't want to admit that he'd been so depressed for almost a year that he barely left the house, either, which kind of hindered his chances in the dating game. But that was a confession to save for another heart-to-heart.

"Why Paris?" Kurt asked. He knew that Blaine was terrible at French - he'd excelled at Spanish, but French had never clicked for him. He just about passed in senior year after hours of intensive tuition with Kurt; their study dates were interesting, however - the studying always seemed to be scarce and the only French that really happened was kissing.

"I don't know. I could have gone to Paris, London or Rome. London just didn't seem right for me to live and the thought of being thrown into Italy without the faintest idea of the language was scary. I might have sucked at French, but at least I could get by here." Kurt nodded. "I go back to the States sometime during the summer and then senior year will be at NYU. And then I'll be thrown into the real world and have to actually do something with myself." Kurt didn't know how to react to Blaine. He didn't know if he was being sarcastic or serious as he distanced himself from everything he said. It was scary to see somebody you once knew inside out change so rapidly.

So he gave a small smile and looked back down at his oh-so-interesting hands. "What about you?" Blaine asked. "Why Paris?"

Kurt decided to look up at him for the first time during the conversation. "I've always wanted to come here... here and New York, ever since I was little. It's never been why I want to come here, because I don't really know. It's just a place I've dreamt of all my life." Well, Kurt's excuse seemed more plausible than _I wanted a change of scenery from the America's most diverse cit_y.

They continued to talk for a while and they soon wondered why there'd been tension between them at all. They laughed occasionally and nobody surrounding them would have thought they'd been apart for so long. Together they ate at a little cafe opposite Blaine's apartment block, never struggling for conversation. It was far _too_ natural, but they weren't complaining. They managed to talk for hours about weather, Paris, fashion, TV shows, sport... everything other than Kurt's family troubles, really. Blaine talked about demos he'd recorded and the places he'd performed at, both in New York and France. The smile on Blaine's face was the most geniune expression Kurt had seen all day.

A waiter brought their bill to the table as they finished their drinks. "Where are you staying?" Blaine asked.

"Oh... some hostel not too far from here. About ten minutes by train. Why?"

Blaine worried his lower lip between his teeth. "How about you stay at my place? I mean, I could probably use the company. It'll be cheaper as well, places are really expensive around here."

Kurt's eyes widened. "What? Are you sure? Blaine, you don't have to..."

"Kurt, it's fine. Seriously. It'll be easier to hang out and I guess I know the city kind of well." He smiled. "Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

><p>Blaine woke up to see the digital clock next to him flash four a.m but he wasn't sleepy anymore. He pulled himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make himself a glass of water. He was distracted, however, when he heard muffled sobs sourcing from the sofa.<p>

"Kurt?" he asked, abandoning the glass and heading into the living room. "Oh, Kurt."

Kurt lay on the sofa hidden under the blanket Blaine had given him, sniffling and wiping his tears with the rugged edge of the material. "What's wrong?"

"_Everything_, Blaine," he whined, pulling the blanket over his head. Blaine bit his lip as he peeled it back to find Kurt still crying. "I'm twenty one, a college drop out, I've had one boyfriend in my entire life. My parents are dead and I'm sleeping on a _sofa_ wearing pyjamas that smell like that damn hostel."

Kurt knew he was being bratty and Blaine never had to do any of this for him. He also knew he was half asleep, horribly jetlagged and wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. "I've missed you, Blaine," he pouted, looking up at the boy who'd taken to soothingly playing with his bed hair. Blaine's heart smiled at Kurt's sleepy confession because in all honesty - no matter how angry he was or is at Kurt - he missed him too. So, so much.

Blaine questioned himself for a minute before cupping Kurt's tear-stained cheek gently, stroking the tear tracks away with his thumb. He shushed him as he mumbled little words to calm him down and both men gasped as their lips brushed together. Blaine's eyes slipped shut as he moved against Kurt's lips: soft, and slow, and gentle, and breaktaking.

"Come here," Kurt whispered and made room on Blaine's large sofa for him to cuddle on. Blaine climbed underneath the duvet and fell back asleep with Kurt's arms wrapped around his front, holding him close to his body.

They both knew that what they were doing wasn't right - they still had a lot to talk about. But right now, in each other's arms, they didn't care. This was where they both belonged.


	4. Chapter 3

Hello all, again! I don't have a lot to ramble about at the start of this chapter (hooray!).

HUGE (like, THIS big!) thanks to** njferrel****l **on here for the amazing ideas :) I'm definitely taking them on board! I already had a few in mind and I'm keeping the list to ten (as I've only really achieved two so far, four parts in!) so I definitely have ideas! Also, Blaine's sister Sara reappears in this chapter and I might make her a more permanent OC (but not distracting from the story too much of course!) but if you don't like her/would rather me not include her as much let me know, as you're the readers! Also, if it is causing any confusion: currently, I'd say we're up to the June or July of Blaine's junior year at college, which would make both Kurt and Blaine 21. And Sara is a freshman, so it'd make her 19. Just clearing things up because I don't think I've been all that clear!

Not much of a ramble? Yeah, of course not... I still don't own Glee, Klaine, the song or most things mentioned in this fic.

(ps: the place mentioned in the first part is so pretty. Seriously. I love Paris so much. I'll be quiet now!)

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><p><strong>Pretending: Chapter 3<strong>

_just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight  
>just a touch of the fire burning so bright <em>

"It's so... beautiful," Kurt whispered, looking out at the city spread beneath him.

Blaine and Kurt had taken an early morning walk up to Sacre Coeur as neither of them could get to sleep after their mid-night encounter. They'd taken a flask of coffee and pastries out with them as, to Kurt's surprise, coffee shops really were scarce here. And Kurt had been slightly mad at Blaine for not telling him that they'd be doing so much damn walking and Doc Martens weren't exactly walking shoes, but he couldn't be fully mad. Because they both knew something had changed between them last night.

Blaine reached over for a croissant in the bag in front of them and poured himself a plastic cup of black coffee. "I'll never know how you can drink... _that_," Kurt laughed, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the smouldering caffeine that Blaine could somehow consume. Blaine simply smiled at Kurt and placed his hand on Kurt's knee, squeezing it gently. Kurt reached for a pain au chocolat from the bag in front of them, making himself a cup of coffee with the milk they'd brought as well. He'd never understood how Blaine could _enjoy_ coffee that strong, even in high school.

"Is this what you normally do, or am I an exception?" Kurt asked, sipping his drink and Blaine smiled.

"Seriously? No. I barely remember to eat breakfast most days," he said and he heard Kurt gasp. Kurt had always had to force him to eat before classes when they'd live together - _no, Blaine Anderson, coffee is _not _a meal_ had been drilled into his head every morning. "I know you're judging me right now."

Kurt smiled. "Yes. But it doesn't surprise me. You never listened to people." And now it was Blaine's turn to smile and involuntarily remember so many memories he'd forced himself to forget. Simple things, like how Kurt's hair looked with snowflakes in or how he'd sing loud enough for Blaine to hear from the bedroom when he took his morning shower.

It's the little things Blaine remembers about Kurt in the years that they were together. People are like jigsaw puzzles - it's the small pieces of Kurt that make up the person he adored. And without Kurt's love of scarves, his healthy diet or bed head which he vehemently hated, Blaine wouldn't be so in love with Kurt. Even after this time.

"I missed you," Blaine dared to whisper, just loud enough for both of them to hear. Kurt nodded and reached for the hand resting on his thigh, holding it gently. He murmured something which vaguely sounded like an echo of what Blaine said, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions.

Kurt lifted his hand from where it sat on top of Blaine's, placed it on his ex-boyfriend's hip, and pulled him close. Blaine let his head slip onto his shoulder as he sleepily yawned, the lack of sleep affecting him.

"You've never been a morning person," Kurt mumbled, and Blaine grinned, leaning up to meet Kurt's lips. A blush spread across his fair cheeks as he returned the gesture, his other hand instinctively reaching to stroke Blaine's stubble-laced cheek, as he always did when he kissed another person.

"So… what's on the bucket list agenda after Paris?" Blaine asked, still tucked under Kurt's chin. Kurt paused for a moment, not sure how to say it aloud. He was scared of sounding like Blaine's stalker or something, but it was entirely coincidental. He didn't even think Blaine would have still been there.

_2. Move back to New York City._

"Well… I'm going back to the city. Not to college, but I'm going to look for a job. Maybe an internship, or even in a theatre. Start singing again. Or something." He sighed and didn't catch Blaine's hopeful smile. "I didn't really think it out that much. But I moved all my things to storage before I left for Paris and I'm going to find an apartment. You don't have to offer me yours this time, Blaine," he added, noting how Blaine went to speak over him.

"It would be nice, though. If you wanted to. I was going to move in with Sara and it'll be even cheaper if we split the bills three ways. And if we're going to, well…" Blaine laced his fingers with Kurt's. "Start something. It'll be nice to do it together. Right? At least tell me you'll think about it."

Kurt smiled and nodded. For so long, his jigsaw puzzle and been missing a piece and while the image was still clear, it was obvious it wasn't complete. And now Blaine had reappeared… it was finally perfect.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Sara Anderson sat in one of New York's countless Starbucks houses, chugging a coffee as she desperately typed away at her Macbook. Her last essay of her freshman year at Columbia University was due within a fortnight and she figured if she was at a coffee house without distractions (mainly, the internet) she'd get a lot more work done.<p>

Until her phone rang.

"Blaine? What do you want?" she asked. She'd never been one for polite phone greetings.

He'd let Kurt spend the afternoon roaming the city alone because, well, he knew how to work the metro and he could speak French a lot better than Blaine could, even after a year living in the country. And he always could call Blaine if he really got lost. So he took the opportunity to bask in his new relationship (that neither man would confirm) and brag about it to his sister… and how the man would be moving in with them in a matter of weeks.

"You're bringing a French boy home? Oh God, Blaine, you can't even speak the damn language," Sara laughed, lying on the sofa in the apartment she was going to share with her brother. They'd been best friends, ever since they were little. Sara had always been the supportive parents, older, protective sibling and best friend for Blaine even though she was two years younger than him. They had their sibling arguments but neither one could live without each other.

"No, shut _up_," he laughed. "You remember… you know Kurt, right? From high school?"

"Oh!" she chirped. "I know! The guy you were going to propose to, right?" Blaine sighed as she mentioned that, his fingers toying nervously with the ring. "Sorry."

He smiled although she couldn't see it - he kept the evidence with him every day, but it still hurt to think about it. "It's alright, just don't tell him, okay? And I met him again out here. He's moving to the city… so I said he could move in with us. Things seem to be going well for us and we… we might be starting again." Blaine had to hold the phone away from his ear as Sara squealed far too excitedly down the line.

"Really? Oh my God, Blaine, why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sara's endless enthusiasm always made Blaine smile.

"_Because_, nosey, it only happened this morning. And bearing the whole time difference in mind, this is the first chance I could have told you. But I'm going to need you to do me a favour."

"Anything for you, brother."

"Buy a bigger bed. Kurt's moving in with us, we've only got two bedrooms and I'm sure he wouldn't want to share with you."

Sara laughed out loud, ignoring any stares from the people around her who were probably all eavesdropping eagerly into her conversation with her brother. She'd long abandoned her essay and a finger swirled around her mug and collected the whipped cream from her mocha. She listened intently to Blaine rambling about how he'd reconnected with Kurt in such odd circumstances.

"Yeah, I know. It's insane! So… anyway. I'll be off to Ikea this weekend to buy my favourite brother and his boyfriend a bed and well… now I have to finish a project about a topic I can't even remember. So… speak to you soon, okay? Love you!" Sara hung up the phone before Blaine could even speak and continued furiously attacking her Mac's keyboard, desperately hoping that the right words appeared on screen.

* * *

><p>Jogging down the road to her apartment block, Sara didn'texpect to see an unfamiliar car filled completely with boxes waiting outside. Ignoring the unfamiliar vehicle she went to head inside - until Blaine headed out the door. He didn't know how to react for a moment as a pair of arms wrapped around him until the familiar excited voice beamed down his ear far too loudly.<p>

"Blaine!" she yelled, echoing in his jetlagged head. "Oh my God, I didn't know you were moving in today! Here, do you need some help?" She gently eased her arms from their suffocating grip and stood in front of her brother, her smile still glowing.

Blaine returned her grin. "Kurt and I are bringing all our stuff into the apartment. How about you be an angel and go and get us some coffee? Grande Americano for me and a grande mocha for Kurt. No whip. Get yourself something as well," Blaine smiled as he handed her a twenty dollar note. She sighed but walked back down the same road she'd came from, her gym bag thumping dramatically on her back.

By the time Sara returned with their drinks, the car was emptied and the apartment had turned into a box city. Who knew two people could own so much shit between them? They were sat curled into each other, watching the TV and Blaine leaned forward to kiss Kurt gently. Sara placed their respective cups on the table before sitting down, taking a sip from her own. She hadn't even thought about how awkward things were going to be, sharing a house with a couple. Part of which was her brother - the brother she protected so fiercely.

"So you two are like… dating again, right?" she asked and to Blaine's surprise, Kurt nodded. He'd always been reluctant to love - even when they'd first dated, it was Blaine who made the first move (they pined after each other for _months_, of course. But Kurt would have never kissed Blaine first. Never.)

Kurt looked up at Blaine and smiled at him, as Sara reached for the remote to turn the television over. "You do realise those boxes won't empty themselves, right?" she commented, and both men laughed.

"These coffee won't drink themselves, either," Blaine retorted, taking a long gulp. Kurt mimicked his lovers actions - he lifted his head from Blaine's thumping chest and sat up straight, sipping his own drink.

Sara curled up with her computer again, still working on her essay, as the two men started to clear the boxes out of the room and into what would become their bedroom for who knew how long. Kurt gingerly folded all of his slightly crinkled designer scarves and placed them into a drawer of their own - Blaine knew that he was going to have hardly any closet space while sharing with Kurt, but that was okay. He was good at making sacrifices for the people he loved.

And Kurt watched as Blaine moved around the room - hanging posters, positioning photo frames, stacking their joint CD collections. They were slowly but successfully turning a few square feet of room into a home of their own. And Kurt knew when the time was right that they _would _have a house of their own. They'd have matching wedding bands and together they'd have a cat or a dog or a pond full of fish. Maybe even a few children, either adopted or through surrogacy. They'd cross that bridge when they had to.

Number ten of Kurt's bucket list was to fall in love. He'd put it at the end because he never expected it to happen quickly.


	5. Chapter 4

Oh my God, you guys, I'm aware I suck and I feel like a complete ass for taking absolutely FOREVER to update. I just haven't had much inspiration for this chapter at all and it sounded really cool in my head then words fought with me and it's just... not :( I'm sorry. It's so short as well and ugh. I'm working on a one shot to make it up to you for this incredibly horrible chapter. Anyway, I just want to thank you all as the last chapter had more hits than any of the others, which was so cool! I love tracking my hits :) haha. Anyway, enjoy...

* * *

><p><strong>Pretending: Chapter 4<strong>

_maybe i'm brainless, maybe i'm wise  
><em>_but you've got me seeing through different eyes_

Every morning Kurt would wake up with Blaine's arms wrapped around his body, or with his holding Blaine. It still felt alien for this man to be there after so long, after he'd told himself he'd never be able to do this again. That he didn't _need _Blaine anymore.

Blaine Anderson was the air in Kurt's lungs. He'd hadn't breathed properly for years, now, and because Blaine was finally back, he was sure as hell making the most of it.

Somedays they'd spend it out in the city - admiring its beauty like they'd never visited before. They'd go to parks in the early morning or late at night, counting simple things like birds, hand-holding couples, stars and litter bins. Other times they'd spend hours sitting in little bars or coffee houses, filling in the gaps over beer or coffee. And if it was cold or stormy outside, they'd cuddle on the sofa with a DVD and Sara spent most of her days with friends because she felt like an awkward extra in the apartment.

Their summer was spent in a bliss of casual sex, relearning everything about each other and the bits they'd missed first time around. Kurt would go and sit for hours in recording studios with Blaine while he recording new parts of songs he had composed. He'd smile at some of the lyrics, often about rekindled love and stories in song about finding yourself through another person. Blaine had never been subtle - but at least he'd swapped "Gap Attacks" for pretty words.

And suddenly, the sun didn't stay out as long and the leaves turned brown. Kurt found himself with an apartment to himself as Blaine and Sara disappeared to their classes every day and he finally realised that damn, he should start looking for a job.

"Vogue are hiring, you know? They're looking for interns - they'd only have to look at your closet to realise you'd be a keeper," Sara told him one day and Kurt hadn't been more thankful for her.

Dressing bratty size twos would be hell for most people, but Kurt embraced it. He spent most of his day surrounded by beautiful designer clothes, arranging interviews and photoshoots and taking measurements for models. And occasionally they'd hit on Kurt - slipping their mobile numbers into his pockets, obnoxiously flirting or simply asking him out after he finished work. Finally, it felt so good to tell them that "no, sorry, I'm afraid I'm taken".

With Kurt spending endless hours savouring his new job and Blaine either at classes, performing or slaving over assignments, it felt like they didn't have any time together anymore. Kurt would leave stupidly early to fetch coffee for his superiors and would only arrive home in the evening carrying whatever take out he'd felt like buying that evening. Some nights he'd go to bars and sit at the back, quietly drinking a sprite and vodka while watching Blaine perform songs and covers to the rest of the room.

When Blaine subtly included one of Kurt's favourite songs into his set, or even some from their days of show choir, Kurt couldn't help but smile to himself.

* * *

><p>Both Kurt and Blaine battled through each week to be greeted by the weekend - two whole days where they could do what they wanted, like a proper couple.<p>

Kurt always woke up earlier than Blaine, he always had. Although he didn't still religiously do that ridiculously expensive skincare routine he once had, he still liked to make himself look good in the morning. Blaine always insisted that he looked naturally flawless, but Kurt was convinced it was just an excuse to cuddle together for longer.

It was just pushing eight am in the middle of October and Kurt decided to surprise Blaine with his favourite breakfast: nutella pancakes and an espresso. Sara was already awake, making a quick breakfast in their kitchen as Kurt stumbled in sleepily.

"Morning," she smiled, rooting around the fridge for a muffin to take to work with her. She'd be out for most of the day, Kurt figured. She started at nine and didn't end until the early evening, so they could do whatever they wanted. Uninterrupted.

And no, not like that.

Kurt hadn't looked at his bucket list for a long time. He knew he was only twenty one so still had plenty of time to tick off the remaining eight things he'd come up with. Some he knew he'd have to plan a lot before even thinking about a couple of his plans. And others, he could do in a day. Right now, even. He put the flour and eggs back in their normal place and instead rummaged through their freezer and realised that no, they didn't have any Ben and Jerry's in.

He waited for their coffee machine to finish making Blaine's drink and he placed it on the table beside their bed with a note and kissed him softly on the cheek.

_Blaine, I'm just heading out to the shop to get some stuff for today. I hope you don't have any plans for today because I've kind of made them for both of us._

_Kurt_

Kurt stumbled out into the chilly autumnal morning, regretting not bringing a scarf because _fuck_ it was cold. Whoever saw what he was going to buy in the supermarket would probably question his mentality, too. Who needs two tubs of ice cream in the middle of freaking October?

_3. Spend an entire day watching movies._

_4. Eat an entire tub of Ben and Jerry's in one day._

The woman looked at him sidewards as he handed her two tubs of Ben and Jerry's, a ten dollar note and a smug grin. Kurt hurried back to the apartment to find Blaine still curled up in their bed, the not-so-steaming coffee untouched and the folded paper still placed where he'd left it. Kurt hurried to put the tubs away in the kitchen before crawling into bed, wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine.

"Blaaaaaine…" Kurt whined into his ear, causing him to groan and stretch his limbs unnaturally all over the place. "Come on, Blaine. I want to do something today."

"Sex?" Blaine mumbled, still half asleep, emitting a laugh from Kurt along with a shake of his head.

"No. Maybe later. How does a pyjama day sound? With movies and ice cream?"

"Ice cream?" Blaine perked up at the two simple words, sitting up in bed to look at his boyfriend.

Kurt smiled at Blaine's expression. He had a habit of turning into an incredibly innocent little boy in the morning when he was still half asleep. "Yes, Blaine. Cookie dough ice cream."

Blaine smiled brightly at his boyfriend before pulling him close, kissing him gently. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now go and find a ton of DVDs and I'll go and get the ice cream. Okay?"

"Sure."

* * *

><p>Ten hours later, an additional five tubs of ice cream and four Harry Potter movies later, Kurt looked down at Blaine who was snuggled into his chest, the blanket wrapped around both of their bodies. Kurt's fingers trailed through Blaine's untamed curls and watched him as he breathed softly, his chest rising and falling in time. Kurt's other hand toyed with the top buttons of Blaine's polo shirt, finding the mysterious ring he always wore around his neck and threading it onto his fingers.<p>

It fitted perfectly. Kurt smiled.

"Kurt?" Blaine mumbled, stretching out as he awoke. Kurt fleetingly pressed his lips to the other man's forehead and Blaine smiled tiredly up at him.

"I had a dream about you, you know?" Blaine mumbled, quickly noting the ring around Kurt's finger and pulling it off.

"Dare to tell me?"

"M'too tired to." Blaine, although he'd been asleep for the last half of the _Goblet of Fire_, yawned loudly. "Bed time?"

Kurt's earlier smile still hadn't faltered. "Sure. Let's just… clear up, okay?" He looked around the room at the ice cream tubs and the popcorn kernels they'd thrown at each other.

They cleaned the room - well, Kurt did, Blaine lay in bed and told him what to do - they dressed into fresh pyjamas and huddled together back under the covers, Kurt being the big spoon.

"I love you, you know that?" Kurt whispered as Blaine unintentionally yawned yet again, shivering at the kisses Kurt trailed along his neck. Blaine nodded, smiling, and pressed himself closer against Kurt's body.

They fell asleep together in an exhausted harmony of endless limbs and gentle breaths.


	6. Chapter 5

i am a complete asshole. I took even longer to write this and it turns out the one shot I started it uncannily similar to one I read a few days ago. Heh. But this is hella long and I don't think I've wrote anything this long. Ever. Very angst heavy, a lot of swearing. I don't agree with the language used by one of the characters in this (you'll understand when you get there), either.

* * *

><p><strong>Pretending: Chapter 5<strong>

_in our family portrait we look pretty happy  
><em>_let's play pretend, let's act like it comes naturally_

Winters in New York were honestly brutal. They seemed to start when the Christmas decorations come out, which was stupidly and pointlessly early. It had always been Kurt's favourite season (hello, _scarves_) but he remembered how horrible they could be here when he was late for work three mornings in a row, having to trudge through almost calf high snow which hadn't yet been shovelled.

Kurt knew what had happened merely a few winters ago, and he wasn't denying that. But he sure as hell didn't want to talk about it. Not about his departure. Not about his parents. Not about what either Blaine or he had felt about it.

He cared about Blaine, he did. It was just too soon for him to open up the healing wounds. He didn't want to ruin what they'd built up over the past few months. They were stronger now than ever, and Kurt didn't want to dare to chance that.

Blaine started meeting Kurt at the nearest coffee shop at lunch time because it was becoming hard for them to spend longer than a few hours apart anymore. Blaine sat in the nearest Starbucks to Kurt's office with two drinks - a skinny latte and a drip - waiting for his boyfriend (which they still actually hadn't confirmed to each other yet, but Kurt had accepted Blaine's request to turn his status from Single to In A Relationship on Facebook. That made it official.) to finish his morning shift and meet him there. He'd also bought a plate of biscotti and muffins to share because… well. He was going to need something to cheer Kurt up with the news he had.

Kurt, barely visible behind the designer layers and scarves he was wearing, skipped through the door and saw Blaine instantly, smiling brightly. He hurried over to sit opposite him, leaning across the table to kiss him gently. "How was your morning?" Kurt asked, sliding his mug to his half of the table with half of a blueberry muffin.

"Classes were cancelled. Most of the teachers live outside the city and are already snowed in." _Should I tell him yet? Or should we have a nice conversation before I drop it on him?_ "Yours?" Blaine finished with a smile.

Kurt laughed sarcastically. "_Brilliant_, honestly. Winter fashion week is less than a week away and… yeah. It's a constant bitch fight in that place."

"Which is why it's perfect for you - you can argue them all under the table," Blaine smirked, earning a chuckle and a gentle slap from Kurt.

"Yeah, right. All I do there is make too much coffee and shout back at bratty models." Kurt paused to look at Blaine; he looked really… _vulnerable_. It was a look Kurt hadn't seen for a long time - high school, even. "Baby?" he asked, reaching for Blaine's hand which was fiddling nervously with a biscotti. "Is something wrong?"

He sighed. "Kurt, I know we were going to go back to Lima this Christmas, but… but my parents called this morning. They're flying out on Friday and staying with us until after Christmas." Kurt felt his lips fall into an O shape.

"Do they…?" Kurt asked quietly, hoping Blaine knew what he meant. He shook his head.

"You know what they're like, Kurt. They're still waiting for me to find a "good girlfriend who'll knock it out of me". I wish I could tell them, Kurt, I wish I could tell them everything about you - your determination, your strength, how you really do snore in your sleep even though you deny it." Kurt smiled. "But I don't mind them telling me all this stuff; I've heard it since I was fourteen and come out to them. I don't want you to hear it. You don't deserve to, baby. Why's it so unfair?" Blaine sighed and snapped the biscuit he'd been toying with for a while, dropping it back on the plate.

Kurt brushed the tear he hadn't realised was falling as he squeezed both of Blaine's hands tightly. "Baby, it's okay. I hear it all the time, it's nothing-"

"But that's not the point, Kurt!" he shouted, a little louder than intended and a few heads turned. "Who are they to tell us who we have to be? We're gay, Kurt. People think they can make decisions for us just because we're a little different and I'm sick of it. They think they can chase us out of our home state to somewhere that's a _little_ more accepting just so we can be ourselves. They tell us that we can't get married, can't adopt our own kids, can't fucking do _anything_ without a rainbow stamp of approval. I thought that by moving here I could just be myself but they fucking have to follow me _everywhere_, Kurt." Blaine knew a few more people were watching now and the coffee house was slowly going quieter. Kurt held onto his hands tightly as Blaine sobbed, not knowing what else to do other than to just listen. "I just want to be _normal_. Is that too much to ask for?"

Kurt glared back at a few of the more disapproving looks being shot their way and instead wiped away the tear tracks on his cheeks. "It's okay, baby. I understand. Do you want to go back home? I'll call the office." Blaine nodded and they abandoned their drinks and food to head back home.

The thing Blaine liked about New York was that you blended in. Nobody saw him as a different person because the next day, most passers-by wouldn't remember him.

* * *

><p>Blaine wasn't a morning person but he'd been awake since at least four am, cleaning and tidying their already neat apartment. Kurt wasn't even sure if he'd been asleep. He didn't mind that Blaine was starting to care about the state of their apartment, of course. He just wished he'd be a bit quieter while he cleaned.<p>

"Blaine, that's it," Kurt groaned as watched Blaine dust around a bunch of photo frames his parents wouldn't even _find _placed at the front of their TV. Kurt dragged himself out of bed and edged closer to Blaine. "Baby, stop. You're going to make yourself sick." He placed his hand over Blaine's arm to stop him from cleaning even more things that were completely spotless and noticed he was shaking and his eyes were suspiciously red. He looked up at Kurt, sighing tiredly.

"I just want to really impress them." His voice cracked slightly, panicking. "You're so lucky, Kurt."

Kurt looked up, his eyebrows drawing together. "I am?"

"Yeah. I mean, look at you. Your dad… he didn't care. Carole and Burt were better parents to me than my own, Kurt. Isn't that what everyone wants? For their parents to actually _love _them?" Kurt bit his lip nervously.

"Blaine, it's going to be okay. They're only staying for a week. We'll get through it, all the awkward questions, everything, and then they'll be gone. Okay?" He pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and Blaine giggled a little. "Better?" he asked and smiled as Blaine nodded.

"Come on. Get back into bed. They don't get here until two in the afternoon." Kurt tugged Blaine by his arm and back into bed. They didn't go back to sleep but they lay in a content bliss, together, breathing in each other. Kurt kissed Blaine's neck gently from behind and Blaine sighed softly in response, taking in everything about his lover.

* * *

><p>Blaine sat nervously on the sofa, tapping his foot repeatedly. Sara had left for the airport almost an hour ago now - their parents' flight arriving into Newark Airport about twenty minutes ago. Both Kurt and Blaine didn't dare to say a word to each other, both incredibly tense for two similar reasons: they both wanted to impress the Andersons. Blaine's mind was racing with thoughts of what they'd do or say to him or even Kurt. They'd never approved of Blaine's 'phase' and when they knew he was acting on it, they weren't happy. They hated how flamboyant and stubborn Kurt was. Both James and Cathy Anderson could tell Kurt was making their son exceptionally happy… but they didn't want that.<p>

They wanted him to be happy, of course. But not with another boy. And they were scared, after seeing him with Kurt, that they'd never see their little boy wait for a white-clad bride at the end of an aisle.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Blaine. Okay?" Kurt whispered, sitting beside him on the sofa and kissing his temple.

"Do you think the place is clean enough?" Blaine whispered, melting against Kurt's body. Kurt nodded, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer.

"Blaine, it's fine. Stop worrying. They'll be here for a week and then they'll be gone. Come on, just don't panic. It's their fault if they don't like it." Kurt knew that Blaine wasn't worried about the apartment - it hadn't been this clean… ever. He just didn't want them to find anything bad to complain about other than Blaine himself.

Both Kurt and Blaine turned to look at the door as Sara stumbled through, pulling two suitcases behind her. The two men stood and walked towards the door as a short, tanned woman walked through the door. She smiled awkwardly at Blaine, disregarding Kurt as she pulled Blaine close for a tight hug. He looked up as his dad - a taller Blaine with blue eyes instead of honey and a lot more wrinkles - and smiled at him, expecting the lack of response.

"James, come on," Cathy sighed, noting her husband's glare at their son. She reached for his hand and smiled apologetically at Blaine, although the expression didn't meet her eyes. Her intentions for the trip were to solve every crack that existed in their relationship and to solve them. James… well James always wanted to ruin everything.

* * *

><p>The Anderson family and Kurt sat around the new (but they wouldn't tell the that) dining table, eating whatever the hell Blaine had cooked for them. The small talk was almost as bad as the silence.<p>

"So, Blaine, who's your friend?" James asked, knowing _exactly _who Kurt was. He'd met him more than enough times - some incredibly awkward for various reasons - to know who he was. And yes, Kurt had changed a little since graduation. He'd lost a little bit of weight, he didn't use as much product in his hair, he'd grown an inch or so. But he wasn't unrecognisable. James Anderson seemed to love stirring unnecessary arguments.

"Weren't you Blaine's friend in high school, love?" Cathy asked mid-bite of her food. Kurt smiled tiredly - he was so sick of people calling him simply Blaine's _friend_, even when they knew they were far, far more than friends.

"Yeah, I met him at Dalton. I moved out here with him to go to FIT but because of…" he paused, looking at Blaine. "…family problems, I had to drop out and move back to Ohio."

"Money?" James questioned, not looking up at Kurt as he spoke to him.

Blaine glanced at Kurt, who was smiling through gritted teeth. He _hated _people assuming his financial situation because they were well, comfortable. "No, sir," he spat unintentionally. "My dad and step mom were in a serious accident, actually. My father passed away after a few months in hospital and I had to care for my step mother. The medical fees, as you can imagine, were… shocking. My step brother has a scholarship at an Ohio college so I dropped out voluntarily."

"Was that… I can't remember the names. The car that crashed on the ice into the library in Lima?" Cathy asked. For the first time Kurt could remember, she sounded… he couldn't word it. Compassionate.

He nodded, sighing quietly. He felt Sara's heartbroken gaze even though he was staring intently at his plate, and she reached under the table to squeeze his knee. He smiled as the family continued to eat.

Sara talked to her parents about her journalism course, Kurt and Blaine silently thanking her from detracting from the awkwardness with her complaining about still having to study math. "You okay?" Blaine mumbled, gripping Kurt's spare hand tightly. He sighed, barely audibly, and nodded. They continued to eat for a while in quiet.

"So, have you got a girlfriend yet Blaine?" James asked, sounding hopeful as he asked.

He groaned, loud enough for James to hear. "_No_, dad." Sara bit her lip - she'd heard this argument far too many times when Blaine lived at home. She was almost thankful when he moved to college - at least their dad would stop giving Blaine such a hard time that he didn't deserve.

When Blaine had been bullied, beaten and broken, the only person who'd really helped pick up the pieces was Sara. Their mom didn't know what to do and their dad thought he had it coming.

_He chose to be that way, Sara. I don't know why you give the martyr so much sympathy._

"Dad, I don't know if you've guessed or not, but Kurt's not _just_ my friend. And I plan for it to stay like that for a long time."

Now it was James' turn to groan. "Blaine, you don't understand, do you? You just love fucking things up. First, you couldn't even make it at a fucking public school, you had to drain most of your college fund going to that gay school. Then you major in music and not law like we wanted you to. And this whole gay thing, Blaine? You're not a teenager, you can stop acting like one! I didn't bring up such a fa-" James felt Cathy tug at his arm, desperate to get him to sit and calm down.

"A what, dad? A fag? That's original, you act like I've never heard the word before. You think I chose to be gay? You think I want my dad to_ hate_ me?" Blaine felt the tears he'd pent for years sting at his eyes and Kurt tugged at his arm, wanting him to sit down.

"Come on, Blaine, leave it…" he mumbled, sighing.

"And _you_… you think you can make my son gay? I knew you had a thing for him but you don't need to make such a big fucking deal out it!" James snarled at Kurt and Kurt was, bluntly, terrified.

"Don't you say a word to Kurt, dad. He's a good guy," Sara shouted. Kurt sat in his seat shaking; he hadn't been that terrified since junior year at high school when locker doors become his face's best friend. Words hurt just as much as rough metal.

"Who the fuck are you? I thought you were my daughter, Sara. I thought you were on my side. And you…" he hissed, looking at Blaine, who was seething. He was looking directly at his father, panting and clutching a table knife just in case. "You're not my son. You never were. Once you finish this semester at school, you can't expect my money to be spent on such a fucking _embarrassment._ Come on, Cathy. We'll find a hotel around here. I'm not spending another minute in this apartment."

Sara and Kurt were both crying quietly and Blaine was in too much shock to do or say anything. The knife he'd clutched fell out of his grip and he kept his eyes fixed on Sara's bedroom; where their suitcases were. The three younger adults could hear screaming and a stinging slap streaming from the room and Sara's hand raised up against her face, muffling her sobs.

Cathy Anderson stormed out of the room and towards Blaine, who was still standing dazed in the dining area. "Blaine, baby, I am so, so sorry," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him in the fiercest hug Blaine could ever remember from her. He half-heartedly returned the gesture, wiping his mom's tears and fumbling with her hair.

"We'll be okay, mom. Just go with him," Blaine whispered and she shook her head.

"I don't want to, I hate him, Blaine, I _hate_ him. You don't deserve anything of what he said…" she mumbled incoherently.

"Well why didn't you stop it? You didn't say anything when I was fourteen and he punched me for coming out. You didn't say anything when I was fifteen and had the shit kicked out of me. You didn't say anything when he called me pathetic and weak for going to Dalton. And you didn't say anything now. Just go, mom." He could feel his mother shaking beneath him but he tried to desperate detach himself from her grip.

"Please, Blaine. Don't do this."

"I'm sorry. But you have to go."

She held him for a while before nodding reluctantly and released Blaine from her death grip. She patted Kurt and Sara on the shoulder before leaving with James.

Blaine could feel the adrenaline flooding out of his system as he sat back down beside Kurt.

"Baby, I'm so sorry, it'll be okay…" Kurt whispered, pulling Blaine close. Both Kurt and Sara were shocked to see him so indifferent - he wasn't happy, but he wasn't sad either.

"It's okay, Kurt. They've gone. We're okay."


	7. Chapter 6

I'm amazed if anybody even still keeps up with this - I'm back at school now and I'm going to be appalling at updating, I'm sorry! However I did post a one shot Look at the Stars which you should all check out if you haven't already! Enjoy, sorry for the wait (and reviews, guys - I see the hits and while I know people are reading, I don't know what you want or don't want! Do you like Sara? What else would you want on the bucket list? Should I stop writing forever? Let me know! Or private message!) :)

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><p><strong>Pretending: Chapter 6<strong>

_i may not make it through the night  
><em>_but i won't go home without you_

Twenty minutes after their parents had left, Blaine was still sat in his seat. The reality of the situation had quickly replaced the adrenaline and it was almost like he was hungover. He couldn't remember most of the past hour - it was almost like he'd watched the argument as a spectator; that his own parents really hadn't just… _disowned _him.

Before Blaine knew what he was doing, his head was in the kitchen sink. So was everything he'd eaten that day.

Kurt rushed to Blaine's side, rubbing and patting his back as Blaine dry heaved, sobbing and spluttering without realising. "This…" he coughed, "this _isn't_ happening to me. Fuck, Kurt." He moved away from the sink which now _stunk _and slumped against a cabinet, sat in a blubbering heap on the floor.

"It'll be okay, Blaine. I promise you," Kurt whispered and crawled to sit beside Blaine.

"No, it won't, Kurt. You've got an inheritance from your dad's business and an awesome step mom. You have a family, Kurt! All I've got is… nothing. Everybody fucking hates me and I can't help it. Do you know how that feels?" Blaine stands up, shaking and not attempting to even wipe at the tears bubbling out. "Kurt, I just… I need some time. Okay? I'm going out, I am going to get so fucked up I can't remember _any _of this and I'll be back whenever I fucking please." Blaine stormed out of the apartment and Kurt sat there, dumbstruck.

He eventually ran after Blaine, chasing him to the elevators. "Blaine, please, don't. We can talk, you've got _me_, don't you see that? I… I love you, Blaine. I've always loved you. Can't you see that?"

Blaine's finger punched the call button over and over and _where the fuck was this elevator_?

"Don't ignore me, Blaine, please," Kurt bit out, stifling a threatening sob in the back of his throat. "I love you. I never stopped loving you."

They both heard the chime of the elevator arriving at their floor. Blaine hurried inside and pushed for the ground floor. They looked at each other desperately - clouds of tears obscuring both of their visions - and the door shut. And Blaine disappeared.

Kurt didn't know how long he was sat in a heap in the hallway until Sara come outside. His eyes were red, his cheeks were flushed and his knuckles were bleeding from where he'd punched the wall behind him.

"Oh, Kurt," she gasped, bending down to sit beside him, sifting her fingers through his messed hair and wrapping an arm around his body.

"I told him I love him, Sara," Kurt whispered. "I love him with everything I have. It's not enough for him."

Sara sat holding him tightly to her as they sat in the hallway, ignoring the confused looks from passers-by. "It'll be okay, Kurt. You and Blaine - you're gonna be okay."

* * *

><p>Kurt lay on the sofa, flicking through the TV channels while clutching a bottle of beer between his index and middle fingers. "Come on, Kurt. Go to bed. He'll be home eventually," Sara called to him from her bedroom. She'd tried to coax him into sleeping hours ago, but it was two am now and he didn't have any plans to do so any time soon.<p>

He was insistent on waiting up for Blaine - even though Kurt had drunk enough beer in the past few hours to forget why Blaine had even stormed out. "I don't sleep, I wait," Kurt slurred as he threw the remote to the floor, eventually settling on a rerun of some sitcom that aired when he was a teenager. Sara chuckled as she shuffled into the living room where Kurt was, sliding down beside him.

"You're not Charlie Sheen, you've had four beers. Go. To. Bed." Sara sat on his feet at the other end of the sofa, reaching for his arm and pulling him up. Kurt lurched as he tried to sit up, smiling sadly at Sara.

"When do you think he'll come home?"

Now, it was Sara's turned to be sad. "Sometime tomorrow morning, I'm guessing. He'll crash at somebody's house, come home hungover as hell and feel like a complete asshole. He used to do this all the time when I was younger. He'd stay at somebody else's house whenever dad shouted at him."

"I'm sorry you had to grow up… with all that. With your dad treating Blaine like he did."

Kurt, although he never admitted it, sometimes felt insanely guilty for having such kind parents. His mom had never complained about his differences at such a young age. His dad had accepted his sexuality - sure, there'd been a few problems (mostly stemmed from Kurt's paranoia) but they'd always worked through them. Even Carole had been completely cool with it - well, she didn't threaten to kill Blaine every time Kurt mentioned him after a date, or demand to know how far they'd gone, unlike _another _relative.

"It's okay, Kurt." Sara smiled at him, holding tightly onto his hand. "He's an asshole. We had to learn it the hard way, but he is." Kurt and Sara sat in a comfortable silence, the hums of the TV filling the room. Until Kurt's phone rung.

This was the call he'd waited hours for… but he was too scared to answer it. What if it wasn't even Blaine? What if he was hurt?

"Hello?" Kurt asked tentatively. Caller ID had told him that it was, in fact, Blaine, but he didn't know if it _was _Blaine. "Blaine?"

"Is this the famous Kurt I've had to listen to this guy talk about for the past hour? Because Blaine's now passed out on the bar and well… we closed an hour ago," an unfamiliar woman spoke down the line. Kurt chuckled at the image.

"Uh, sure. I'll be there soon." Kurt begin to giggle uncontrollably as he hung up, earning a few confused looks from Sara.

"What's up?"

"Uh, it sounds like he's spent what would have been his inheritance on tequila. We should…"

"Yeah." Sara laughed as Kurt pulled her up, still swaying a little from the alcohol that remained in his body. Sara found Kurt's coat and scarf and wrapped both herself and him in jackets before leaving together.

Blaine was sat outside of a bar a few blocks away from their apartment. He was slumped against the wall, asleep, and both Kurt and Sara found it hilarious. There was a pool of cents and the odd dollar in front of him, causing Kurt to scoff even more - Blaine smelt like the gutter right now, and his scruff made him look even more homeless. "Come on," Kurt whispered, bending down to scoop him up. There was a note scribbled on paper reading _boss made me kick him out. I don't think he woke up at all. Enjoy._ This was amusing Kurt far more than it should do.

"Sara, could you help me?" Kurt begged, trying to scoop Blaine (who could have been unconscious by now, judging by his lack of response) into an upright position. Sara simply giggled, recording the entire spectacle on her phone.

"This is too funny. I'm sorry, Kurt, need to record. For future reference and blackmail."

Blaine's eyes flickered open as Kurt dragged him up and decided to thank him by hurling over Kurt's boots, much to his disgust. "Thanks, asshole, nice to see you too," he muttered as Blaine seemed to get even heavier as he fell asleep again. "Shit, you're so fat," Kurt groaned as he managed to force his boyfriend to stand. "Bed time for you, sir."

Sara eventually decided to help Kurt carry Blaine home and the three blocks in between the bar and their place seemed to be an infinity away now. They eventually stumbled through the doors and into the elevator, which led to their floor. Kurt was still annoyed at Blaine from earlier but right now, all he wanted to do was to make sure he made it into the apartment without crashing to the ground.

Kurt removed Blaine's jacket and shoes before tucking him into the blankets on top of their bed. He poured a pint of water, found a few asprins and put a bucket beside Blaine's half of the bed ready for the nightmare hangover Kurt knew he'd wake up with.

Because even when you're angry at somebody, you don't stop loving them.

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up the next morning to the sound of unmistakable retching from the other side of his bed. He sighed, sitting up to find a mop of curls hanging over the bed and clutching desperately to the bucket. "Shit," Blaine mumbled as he tried to sit back up, reaching for the water and tablets. "You did this?" he asked, turning to face Kurt. He nodded shyly.<p>

"I kinda knew you'd feel like death today. Given that we found you asleep in the middle of the road." Blaine laughed and then groaned at the pain in his chest it caused, so he lay back down.

"Oh, God," Blaine mumbled, pulling the covers over his face - out of embarrassment and because the sun really _was _as bright as Blaine thought it would be. "Do I want to know what happened last night?"

Kurt smiled. "I don't really know. I got a call at about three am saying you'd fell asleep on a bar and when we found you the maid had kicked you out and you were sleeping on the floor." Blaine groaned and Kurt laughed again. "But Blaine… we need to talk. About you know… everything."

"Yeah. I know."

"So… you know how you thought you'd ruined our Christmas? That we couldn't go to Lima because of your parents coming here?" Blaine nodded. "Well… we're going. I booked us tickets yesterday but I didn't tell you. We're flying out next week. Is that okay?"

Blaine smiled at Kurt, cuddling closer to him. "It's great, Kurt. It'll be nice to get away for a while. But for now… can I sleep?" Kurt smirked, feeling insanely sorry for Blaine and his hangover, and nodded.

"Goodnight, Blaine."


End file.
